


you never know the top till you get too low

by thedreamsteam



Series: the dream team fics [18]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ? ig, Angst, Crime Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26997553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreamsteam/pseuds/thedreamsteam
Summary: The blood trickled out of his side as he stood across from Wilbur, the older holding a sword near his throat, not close to touch.“You promised.” Dream whispered, everyone staring at them. “Youpromised.” His voice rises as he steps forward, his blood dripping onto the white floor.or, wilbur is the villain, but maybe that all changes
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot
Series: the dream team fics [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913893
Comments: 10
Kudos: 234





	you never know the top till you get too low

**Author's Note:**

> fight scenes are fun except for when u dont know what actually HAPPENS other than fighting dkhgfg
> 
> uhhh dedicated to ash n lance hi i love yall and yall fueled this fic
> 
> title from i'm so sorry by imagine dragons lol

The blood trickled out of his side as he stood across from Wilbur, the older holding a sword near his throat, not close to touch.

“You promised.” Dream whispered, everyone staring at them. “You _promised_.” His voice rises as he steps forward, his blood dripping onto the white floor. 

“Promises can be broken.” Wilbur responds evenly, sword held steadily. “You’ve proven that easily enough.”

“When?” Dream asks, “When have I broken a promise?”

“You told me there would never be a war. You told me there would never be a war in these parts, and you even promised that you would do everything in you to stop one.” His voice shakes, and Dream can see the edges of his mask falling. “You said there would never be bloodshed, and you _lied_.”

“But I didn’t break a promise.” The tip of the sword pricks his neck, and he swallows, the feeling of a droplet of blood running down his neck grounding him. “I may have lied without knowing, but I never, _ever_ broke that promise.”

“Then what’s all this, huh? Why are you here, and not trying to stop the war?” Wilbur’s voice sounds crazy, and Dream suddenly has the thought, the idea, that maybe he won’t make it out of here alive.

“You are the war.”

Wilbur steps forward, suddenly, jamming the sword at him, and if Dream hadn't already been expecting it, if he hadn’t already thought he’d do this, he’d be dead. His sidestep saves him from death that moment, but his sword saves him the next, the clang of two swords colliding ringing in the air.

“Just accept your fate, you bastard!” Wilbur growls, and the two’s fighting could nearly be described as perfect.

They roll and jab and grunt and aim and slice and duck and do _everything_. It’s not perfect enough, though, Dream finds out.

He’s slow shielding himself, and the sword slams into his face hitting his mask, and everyone in the room stares in horror as Dream rips it off, blood dripping down his face as he doesn’t stop. The fight is a horrible game, and if someone wasn’t going to die, it’d nearly look _fun_.

“I thought we were friends, Will.” Dream says, and he doesn’t mean for Wilbur to hear, he doesn’t mean for him to hear the childhood nickname (Wilbur’s real name), and he doesn’t mean to accidentally pause, and he doesn't mean to see Wilbur unable to stop the already swinging sword, but it finds its home in his stomach, and the blood spreads out across his shirt as his hands reach to feel.

“Oh, fuck.” He says, dropping to his knees as the man in front of him drops beside him. 

“Fuck, Clay.” Wilbur says, searching his bag. “Fuck, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried.” Dream coughs, and absently, he wonders why nobody is moving. “Tried to get you to meet up just so I could tell you everything, but you always brought someone, or outright refused, so I never got to.”

“Fuck,” Wilbur says, again, pulling out the potion. “Open your mouth.”

He opens it easily, and Wilbur pours the red liquid into his mouth, throwing it to the side once Dream’s drank it all. He gasps, nearly choking on it, and Wilbur wraps his arm around him and helps him up easily, helping it all get down.

“Fuck,” Dream says, the word slipping out easily enough. The tears spring to his eyes, and he turns towards Wilbur, and the pain is still evident on his face, and WIlbur only gets a second to wonder if the potion didn’t work when Dream’s tears drop down his face. “Why did you do this?”

“Do what?” He asks hesitantly, because for once, he doesn’t know which part Dream is talking about.

“Why’d you become so evil?” He whispers, the sounds of people moving breaking their silence.

“It was just… _fun_.” Wilbur rubs at his eye, trying not to let the tears drop. “And you always seemed so smug when you tried to deal with me, and I thought that maybe, being the villain against you wouldn’t be so bad. Nobody else was being the villain, since Schlatt isn’t even that evil, so I thought, I’ll be the worst.”

“Why was it so fun, hurting people? Why was it so fun hurting _me_?” Dream asks softly, and Wilbur shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to hurt people. I just wanted to be evil. I wanted to show everyone what I was capable of, but once I started going down, I just couldn’t _stop_. It was like it just consumed me, and nothing ever seemed to be enough, and anything I thought something, my mind just went what if and I got even more ideas.” His face drops, eyes leaving Dream’s face. “It just felt like something took over, and I’m so fucking sorry, Clay. I didn’t mean for this to happen, at all. It just never felt like enough, and I just had to get worse and worse, because it felt exciting and fun, and I’m just… I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you make me leave, or if you want me to die to even it out, or whatever.”

“No, Wilbur.” Dream hand weakly grabs his wrist, pulling it down until he’s able to grab his hand. “I get it, okay? I’ve gone down this before, and it’s never gotten as far as yours did, but I get it. You just need to try and figure out how you’re gonna make everyone to not be afraid of you, but that’s for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Wilbur nods, and if they’re both ignoring the fact that they don’t know what’s going to happen after this, then it’s _fine_.

Dream is just grateful Wilbur doesn’t want him dead.

**Author's Note:**

> might change my user today on tumblr so im @billyloomls


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